It is not always about when you lose something. It’s about when you realize you’ve lost it. And are never going to get it back. It’s hard to tell whether each loss adds a burden to your existence or creates a void within you. May be, both. Who would have thought that voids could make you feel heavy? Ironical.
An assortment of stories – that is precisely what your life is at this very moment. At every other moment too, for that matter. Your present is nothing but terrible and not-so-terrible tiny tales woven intricately around time. But that’s not even half as fascinating as the following question. Years from now, when you look back in time, which of these stories will make an impact deep enough for you to remember it first (or before the others)? If you could answer that, you’d be living a right life. But if you could answer that, you wouldn’t be living life right. So, you try and answer and sometimes, you won’t fail. Not everything in life can be about perfection. Some things are better left existential. Like this blog post.
To possess is someone is to love, so deep, that it pierces your soul and is capable of carving it into something beautiful or something horrifying. It is to embody oneself in the other; to merge your pains, your sorrows, your disappointments and your happiness with that of the other. It is like standing on the edge of a cliff. To possess is to surrender. And so is being possessed. It is the state of utter vulnerability that results out of absolute trust. It is the courage to surrender one’s dreams, hopes and aspirations at one’s feet and at the same time, being absolutely sure, that the latter would worship all of it. Possession is scary. But Possession is erotic. Possession is, unearthly.
You know how you love someone so much that you always think of him/her before you think about yourself? Yeah, that’s how much I love myself. Now, to the world that runs after love, I may sound like a selfish obnoxious narcissist. But to my very own self, I come across as a person who’s madly in love, like any other super human being such as Jack Dawson or Noah Calhoun . Only, I am in love with the person that resides within me. I understand myself. I support myself. I care about myself. I worry about myself. I keep myself happy. I encourage and motivate myself to be a better person. Once in a while, I pamper myself. I get angry with myself when I do something wrong. I cry with myself. I console myself. I protect myself. Loathe myself. Love myself. I feel all those things for myself that others want to feel for someone for the rest of their lives. Many people die without ever feeling that way about someone. I, on the other hand, have realized that I have spent twenty one years of my life living with that feeling. Does that make me incapable of loving someone else? I don’t think so. Does that make me incapable of loving someone else the way I love myself? Oh dear God, I hope not!
It’s a different feeling leading to the same old pit. One more time. A feeling of comfort and peace. A feeling of safety. Of love. Of belonging. Of eternity. Eternity is a beautiful word. It’s funny how a word can be that deceptive! Painfully funny. It’s also amazing how this one word can ornament your thoughts, your feelings. It makes you believe that a feeling would last. Forever. Sometimes, you write it down. Or you talk about it. And then, later, when your feeling has eloped with time, you try to remind yourself what it feels to feel the way you felt.
Too late. Too deceptive. Too painful.
There are certain incidents in your life that compel you to stare at a blank page for hours before you write something as stupid and meaningless as this sentence. Incidents, that make you go back in time, think about how, you thought then, things would be in the future and laugh, and then bring you all the way back to the present to gape at how things actually turned out to be and laugh even more! Karma is overrated. Irony is the real bitch. And when irony laughs at you, join in.
A lot of people seem to think that their love for someone causes them to be sad. In fact, they think, they are sad because they are in love with someone. But love doesn’t make you sad. Love is a happy feeling. It makes you nothing but happy. It makes you feel in a way you have only read about in novels. Even better, it introduces you to new feelings! Feelings, that wouldn’t have come to you had you not been in love. And those are all happy feelings.
To love someone, and just love someone, not desire, lust after, expect from or possess, just love, is truly magical. The other feelings could be enchanting too, but then there’s always a high, very high risk of heartbreak. But in love, you have nothing to lose. Instead, you gain – all the wonderful feelings, expression, happiness, content, energy, inspiration and if you’re really lucky, the love of that someone you love. If you carefully read the terms and conditions of love, which I can bet my life on, you don’t, you’ll find that love is a standalone feeling and it doesn’t makes it mandatory for you to have any other feeling coupled with it under any circumstances. Why? Because love (and only love) relates to the soul. All other feelings relate to the body.
The world serves you theories on a plate even before you’re born. A vital part of growing up is at least garnishing them the way you want or better, making a new one for yourself. Like I just did.
PS. I hope I am back.